


A Psychopath Walks Into A Gun

by oncomingshower



Series: Ramblings of a Writer [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blood, Guns, Insanity, Knifeplay, M/M, Threats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-03-18
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9920606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oncomingshower/pseuds/oncomingshower
Summary: A collection of prompts revolving around the world of Sebastian Moran and James Moriarty.





	1. Bullets

**Author's Note:**

> OOC: This is part of a series of prompts I am writing for a variety of different pairings within many different fandoms. This selection will be for Moran/Moriarty prompts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian contemplates the bullets in his life and the reaction they have.

Much could be said about bullets. They were a creation of gunpowder that had the aim to kill or maim whatever they were shot at, whether that was a person, an animal and an inanimate object. Though a bullet couldn’t kill a wall, it could certainly damage it. It was also a source of pain, the feeling of a bullet lodging itself into your body something that wasn’t enjoyed by anyone. The firing of a bullet, however, could be enjoyed by many.

He loved firing guns. He loved the feel of pulling the trigger and knowing you had ended a life. It was a thrill like no other. His gun was his baby, one that he spent hours cleaning and taking care of. Of all the things in his world, his gun meant the most to him. Even the bullets were cared for and kept safe in their own compartment. Nothing was ever out of place, neat and orderly to the smallest detail. 

Maybe that was the reason he had gotten so attached to Jim Moriarty. The psychopath that he was, never really seeming stable but able to control an underground network like no other man. He was a genius and Moriarty knew that, but that didn’t mean he was sane. He couldn’t count how many times he had come home to find Moriarty sprawled on his couch, uninvited, fiddling with his gun. A genius with a need and want to kill. That ticked all the boxes, really.

Much could be said about bullets, and if anyone knew bullets, it was Sebastian Moran.


	2. Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan goes awry and Sebastian endures the brunt of it.

“I think I need to teach you a lesson, _Sebby._ ” Jim ran the edge of the knife lightly along Sebastian’s cheek from his straddled position over his lap. “I don’t appreciate you taking my directions into your own hands. Why would you be so silly as to deviate? I had everything under control.”

“I wouldn’t have had to take it into my own hands if your plan hadn’t been entirely stupid and dangerous for _no reason._ ” Sebastian didn’t even flinch at the feel of the cool, steel blade on his skin. It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. When you found yourself involved with an unstable psychopath, you learnt to expect these moments.

“ _Dangerous is what I do!_ ” Jim snapped, jamming the knife hard into the fabric of the sofa and dragging it down with a satisfying rip. “Are you so blind, Sebby, that you can’t see my plans in their entirety? I thought you were _clever!_ ”

Sebastian did flinch when Jim got close enough to him that he could see the manic expression in his eyes. Some days the madness died down and he could almost see the person that Jim could have been. There was no doubt that Jim was intelligent, but sometimes that intelligence was used in a very dangerous and bizarre way.

“I am clever and because I’m clever, I make sure you don’t die. So don’t start on me with your lessons, James Moriarty, because I’m the only person in this world who doesn’t want you dead!”


	3. Immortality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moriarty weighs up his ideals on the world.

Immortality was always a strange concept, the idea that you would live forever. Not necessarily invincible, unable to be hurt, but someone who can never die. You still feel everything and suffer through it, but you’re immortal. Being immortal can also mean your ideas live on, everything you’ve worked for continues and your name is known.

That was what James Moriarty wanted. Immortality. Everything was a game to him, people just pawns in a grand game of chess between Sherlock and himself. He never thought about those he used to play his games, lives that he could toy with, not even of the people closest to him.

As Sebastian lay on the floor, clutching at his chest with blood billowing between his fingers, he realised that immortality was important, but the important things weren’t immortal. As much as he loved games and toying with Sherlock, sometimes things weren’t a game.


End file.
